


Gravitation

by geekkitty (braezenkitty)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Blood, Blood and Violence, Bondage, Bottom Dean, Dean Has Issues, Dubious Consent, Dubious Morality, Enemies, Enemies to Lovers, FBI Agent Castiel, Gratuitous Smut, Handcuffs, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Non-Consensual Bondage, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Serial Killer Dean, Switch Dean, Top Castiel, Top Dean, Violence, brief mention of necrophilia but nobody dies, it's just dean's fucked up way of flirting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-30
Updated: 2016-04-30
Packaged: 2018-06-05 12:48:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6705079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/braezenkitty/pseuds/geekkitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been months since FBI Agent Castiel Novak found out his lover, Dean Winchester, was a serial killer using Castiel for access to the FBI investigation into his crimes. At their last meeting, Dean thought he had killed Castiel, but Castiel survived and has been hunting Dean ever since.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gravitation

**Author's Note:**

> eta: THERE IS ART NOW. Go [check it out here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9493145) (but be careful, it is very nsfw).
> 
> Written for the April [SPN Writing Challenge](http://spnwritingchallenge.tumblr.com/). Prompt: "I thought you were dead."
> 
> This is definitely a dark fic, so please read with caution and heed the tags. The non-con/dub-con is not super intense, but if you have specific questions about what it involves (or anything else) please don't hesitate to [contact me](http://braezenkitty.tumblr.com/ask). 
> 
> And many thanks to [pod7et](http://archiveofourown.org/users/poD7et/pseuds/poD7et) for beta reading for me - this would not have turned out half as good as it did without your suggestions and squee'ing throughout the process :)

* * *

 

"Agent Novak," Dean drawled with a smirk. Blood dribbled down his chin from the split in his lip, and he swiped a hand across his mouth before continuing, “I thought you were dead.”

“I was,” Castiel answered, kicking the knife Dean fumbled when Castiel had surprised him with a roundhouse kick to the face. He braced himself as Dean rose from the warehouse floor, ready to anticipate any move Dean might try to make.

“Well, you're lookin’ pretty good for a dead guy.” Dean winked and the corners of his mouth crawled up into a lazy grin.

“Shut up, Winchester,” Castiel ground out between clenched teeth. This was where he had screwed up before. He'd allowed Dean to distract him with flirtatious words dripping from lips made for sin. He'd forgotten about the monster wearing that gorgeous, freckled skin. Castiel had paid for that oversight with a pound of his flesh. It was a miracle he was standing here today. He couldn't afford another mistake; Dean wasn't going to escape him this time. “Are you going to come with me, or do we need to do this the hard way?”

“Oh, Cas, don't threaten me with a good time.”

The old nickname hit like a knife to his gut. The last time he'd heard it cross Dean’s lips, it had been followed by Dean’s knife in his belly. He ignored the urge to press a hand to the scar and narrowed his eyes at Dean. “Hard way it is then.”

Castiel lunged forward, but Dean blocked his left hook and smashed a fist into his jaw. Castiel staggered and spat blood, but quickly recovered and slammed a fist into Dean’s stomach. Dean’s breath left him in a gust, and Castiel grabbed his shoulders and smashed his knee into Dean’s face before he could recover. Dean fell to the ground, gasping for breath, and Castiel was on top of him in an instant. He flipped Dean over and ground a knee into his back while twisting Dean’s arm behind him. Dean struggled and Castiel wrenched the arm higher, relishing the anguished yelp that escaped.

Before he could reach for his handcuffs, Dean surged up underneath him, throwing Castiel off balance and giving Dean just enough leverage to get free. He was quick and pinned Castiel to the ground in seconds. Castiel silently cursed himself for forgetting just how scrappy Dean could be in a fight.

“I know how much you like to be on top, but I can't allow that this time, sweetheart,” Dean said, looming above Castiel and grinning that dangerously flirtatious grin. His chest heaved as he fought to catch his breath, and he turned his head to wipe his bloodied nose against his shoulder.

“You always were a bossy bottom,” Castiel said, aiming for insulting but sounding far too breathless to his own ears. He told himself he was just winded from fighting.

Castiel struggled to gain some kind of leverage, but Dean was straddling his legs and had his arms pinned to the ground above his head. He wasn't getting out of this unless Dean was distracted or let him go. Castiel doubted he would let him go this time, so distraction it would have to be. Talking and flirting wouldn't be enough though, those were two of Dean’s most used weapons, and he used them well.

Castiel forced himself to relax under Dean’s hold, then swiped his tongue out to lick the blood from his bottom lip, letting it slide between his teeth. He hoped the movement caught Dean’s eye without looking too obvious. It wouldn't do to have Dean catch on to his game before Castiel was ready for him. Dean’s eyes flicked to Castiel’s mouth.

“You know,” Dean said, leering at Castiel, “I've never fucked a dead guy before. Could be fun.”

“I'm surprised you haven't crossed that off your list yet,” Castiel growled.

“There are a lot of things on my list that I haven't crossed off yet. It's a long list. I had to add a few items just for you. Did you know that?”

“I can imagine.”

“Oh, you think you can imagine, but you really have no idea. When you died—”

“When you stabbed me, you mean?” Castiel interrupted, but Dean ignored him and continued with a smirk.

“—I didn't think I'd ever get to cross them off, but it looks like today’s my lucky day because you've come back from the dead—my very own life-sized FBI Agent action figure.” Dean leaned down to lick a stripe up Castiel’s neck, stopping just at his ear to whisper, “We're gonna have so much fun together.”

It was exactly the reaction Castiel had been hoping for. Dean was distracted and thinking about sex. Now was his chance to make a move, get free, and regain control of the situation.

Dean kissed a trail along Castiel’s jaw and neck, his warm, moist breath playing across Castiel’s skin and clouding his thoughts. Despite the precarious situation and the lies and violence between them, Castiel’s body was responding. Dean tongued the hollow of Castiel’s throat and hummed a pleased moan that sent a wave of heat straight to Castiel’s dick. His hips shifted under Dean’s weight, seeking friction even as a tiny voice at the back of his mind screamed at him to stop. He had no control when it came to Dean, never had.

“Fuck, Cas,” Dean mumbled against Castiel’s skin, “so fucking responsive. I barely have to touch you and you're practically begging already.”

“Fuck you,” Castiel said, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to ignore the throbbing heat in his groin. He was only having this reaction because they’d once been lovers—before everything went to hell—and his body just hadn’t gotten with the program yet.

Dean’s breath caressed Castiel’s lips as he answered, “Ask nicely and maybe I'll let you.” Dean’s tongue slid along Castiel’s bottom lip, and Castiel’s mouth fell open to allow him inside.

Castiel tasted blood and whined at the faint, familiar tinge of whiskey. He gasped as Dean surged forward and smashed their lips together. Their bodies melded from hip to chest, and Dean ground against Castiel's erection. Castiel struggled to focus on the throbbing pain in his jaw and not the feel of Dean’s tongue in his mouth, but he couldn’t help kissing back. His hands twitched under Dean’s grip, fighting to grasp Dean and pull him closer. He wanted Dean’s skin under his nails. It took every ounce of willpower to tear his head to the side and escape Dean’s mouth.

Dean’s lips slid across Castiel's cheek and jaw, leaving a trail of wetness, and Dean continued nibbling and sucking. He began to laugh, low and dark and warm against Castiel’s neck, sending shivers through Castiel’s body. Castiel violently suppressed the urge to rut up against Dean and forced his eyes open, looking for a weapon: his handcuffs, Dean’s knife, anything to give him an edge in this struggle. Dim evening light filtered in through broken skylights, barely illuminating the dilapidated warehouse. Castiel could just make out Dean’s knife laying in front of the remains of a rickety metal shelving unit on the other side of the room. Too bad it was impossibly far away and Dean was still pinning him to the concrete. He had to get his hands free and get Dean off of him.

“Dean,” Castiel gasped, not even having to feign breathlessness as Dean suckled at the skin of his neck. The slight drag of teeth across the sensitive flesh sent goosebumps down Castiel’s spine.

“Hmm?” Dean hummed against Castiel's skin, lifting up to gaze down at Castiel. “Need something, sweetheart?” His pupils were blown, and Castiel’s breath caught in his throat as a dark curl of arousal wound through his body.

“You,” Castiel breathed out, “need to touch you.” It wasn't even a lie.

Dean looked down at him, and a crooked grin began to spread over his face as his eyes darkened further, deep green yielding to black. “Never could resist me for long.” He leaned down and kissed Castiel again, deep and wet and filthy, and Castiel struggled not to drown in it.

It had always been this way with them. Like an invisible, inexorable force drew them together and drowned out anything that wasn't Dean. Some broken, lonely part of him hoped he had the same effect on Dean, despite the fact that Dean was a dangerous man who had no qualms about taking life, enjoyed it even. He was the kind of man Castiel had spent his entire life hunting and locking away. But he had wormed his way into Castiel’s life and heart, and he’d used Castiel’s position as an FBI Agent to keep track of the case against him. Castiel hated him for it, but he hated him even more for the things Dean made him feel.

Part of him wished he could go back to the way things were before he had discovered Dean’s secret, back to the time when they had spent entire days in bed with lazy foreplay, ending with intense fucking. Castiel had been able to look into Dean’s eyes and see nothing but heat and want and need reflected back at him. He hadn't yet known that Dean planned to kill him and move on if the case got too close, which it inevitably did. If he was being honest though, he had always been able to see the hint of danger in those green eyes. What he didn’t want to admit was that he hadn’t just chosen to ignore it, he’d actually gotten a thrill from it.

A sob broke from his throat as the reality of his situation hit him full force. He was an FBI Agent who had fallen in love with a criminal, a demented killer, who had returned his love on the edge of a blade.

And still, Castiel loved him.

“Shh, sweetheart,” Dean crooned against Castiel’s skin, “I'm gonna take good care of you.”

Castiel felt Dean adjust his wrists where he still had them pinned above his head, moving them so Dean could grip them both in one hand. Castiel’s pulse sped up as he realized his chance was here. Dean’s grip was strong, but Castiel knew he could twist out of just one hand. He flexed his fingers, willing the blood back into them, and hoped Dean would think he was just anxious to touch. He was just about to make his move when Dean slid his free hand down to Castiel’s chest, loosening his tie and ripping his dress shirt open, causing a couple of buttons to roll away across the concrete floor. Then he was pushing Castiel’s undershirt up and fixing his mouth on Castiel's nipple. Castiel writhed under Dean. Some sick part of him wanted to forget trying to escape and just let Dean have his way with him. He struggled to get his mind back on track, and then gasped at the feeling of cold metal on his wrist followed by the click of a handcuff. Castiel jerked to pull his other hand away before Dean could get the handcuffs on fully, but spending the last few minutes with his arms pinned against the concrete made his limbs sluggish and Dean clicked the cuffs before Castiel could get free.

Castiel’s stomach lurched, knowing he was at Dean’s mercy, for the second time in his life. He'd managed to survive the first time, just barely. He didn't think he'd be so lucky this time. But Dean was sliding his hands down Castiel’s arms and moving up to kiss him again, pulling Castiel’s arms down around his shoulders.

“There you go, sweetheart. Touch all you want.”

And Castiel wanted. He wanted so badly he almost didn't care if Dean killed him when they were done.

 _Almost_.

Castiel spread his fingers and ran his hands along Dean’s shoulders as far as he could reach while being restrained by the handcuffs. He mapped the contours of Dean’s shoulder blades, the shifting muscles as Dean strained above him. He felt Dean fumbling between their bodies, pushing his jeans down below his ass. And then Dean was fumbling with Castiel's zipper and shoving his hand inside. Castiel gasped and bucked up into Dean’s hand, his brain short circuiting at the unexpected jolt of pleasure. Dean stroked him a few times, letting out another dark chuckle. His warm breath puffed against the juncture of Castiel’s neck and shoulder.

“You're so good for me, Cas. You were always too good for me.”

“No,” Castiel protested, not sure what he was protesting—his being good, too good for Dean, or the fact that Dean’s hand was slowly jacking his cock. Whatever it was, it turned into a moan as Dean shoved his pants down just enough so that he could line their cocks up. Castiel knew he was lost as he thrust up into Dean’s hand. The sensitive, overheated flesh of his cock slid against the velvety smoothness of Dean’s. He wasn't too good for Dean. He was just as bad, because he knew that if Dean asked him now to give up his badge and spend the rest of his life watching Dean murder the world, he would do it.

Castiel slid one hand into Dean’s hair and clasped the back of his neck with the other, wrapping one leg around the back of Dean’s thigh. Dean was thoroughly distracted, letting out little moans and gasps against Castiel's neck as he jacked their cocks together while pinching Castiel’s nipple. All Castiel had to do was flip Dean over and use the handcuffs as an improvised garotte. But Dean felt so good, smelled so good, and instead Castiel found himself turning to bury his nose in Dean’s hair. He breathed in deeply, then forced himself to make a move before it was too late. He couldn't allow himself to forget—this wasn't an act of love, but a fight to the death.

Castiel hooked his leg around Dean’s and jerked, forcing him to fall to his side and roll so that Castiel ended up on top of him. Then Castiel slid his cuffed hands around so that the short metal chain pressed into the front of Dean’s throat, and used his momentum to drag Dean up to his knees, back pressed to Castiel’s chest. The cuffs dug into the flesh of his wrists as he pulled the metal tight, cutting off Dean’s air supply. Dean struggled and clawed at Castiel’s arms, but couldn't gain any leverage with his knees being trapped by his forgotten jeans.

“Sorry, honey, looks like you won't be topping after all,” Castiel growled into Dean’s ear. He felt an unmistakable shiver go through Dean’s body before he stilled, only sucking in an occasional gasp of air. Just a bit longer and he'd pass out, and Castiel could get these damn cuffs off and slap them on Dean. Then he'd call for backup and Dean would be locked away for life, and Castiel could begin to forget all of this.

The thought wasn't as satisfying as he wanted it to be.

“Ca—,” Dean gasped, writhing, “Cas, _please_ , fu—.”

Castiel was surprised Dean still had enough air in his lungs to speak. Dean’s hands slid down from where they'd been grasping Castiel’s arms, almost caressing his skin as they fell. Castiel squeezed his eyes shut and tried not to think about how good it felt to have Dean’s hands on him again. He shoved down the urge to lick Dean’s ear and kiss his neck, and dutifully ignored the fact that he was still rock hard against Dean’s bare ass.

“Fuck—,” Dean gasped, sucking in a short breath before he could continue, “me.”

Suddenly Dean’s hands were behind him, and he grabbed at the waistband of Castiel’s pants where they hung open on his hips. Castiel sucked in a breath as Dean yanked the pants down and ground back into Castiel. One hand slid around to grasp a handful of Castiel’s ass and pull him in closer as Dean continued gyrating on Castiel’s now throbbing cock. His other hand slid back up to shove two fingers into Castiel’s mouth where it hung open in shock, and without giving it any thought Castiel greedily sucked them in. Dean’s gasps began to sound more like broken moans and Castiel hazily realized he must have loosened the handcuffs around Dean’s neck enough to allow him to breathe more freely. The thought crossed his mind that that was probably a bad idea, but then Dean dragged his spit slick fingers out of Castiel’s mouth and brought his hand down to open himself up with a broken moan.

“Need you so bad, Cas, please fuck me,” Dean begged, fucking down onto his own fingers.

Castiel tried to resist, he really did, but with Dean writhing against him and making such desperate noises he was having a really difficult time coming up with any reason not to fuck Dean one last time. He glanced down to take in the sight before him. Dean was leaning against his chest, mouth hanging open and cock jutting out, pulsing obscenely. It was too much to resist and Castiel gave in with a growl, grinding against Dean’s ass and biting a bruise into Dean’s neck.

Dean brought his hand up and spit into it, and then his slick palm gripped Castiel’s cock, spreading saliva and precome along the length of it. Dean guided the head to his entrance, and Castiel pushed forward, breaching the tight ring of muscle with no finesse, no gentleness. He pushed Dean forward, forcing him to throw his hands out to keep from slamming face first into the concrete. He kept the handcuffs wrapped around Dean’s neck and shoved his cock the rest of the way into the slick heat of Dean’s body until his hips were settled against Dean’s ass.

“Oh, fuck yes,” Dean groaned, “You're it for me, Cas, the only one. Make me wanna be so good for you.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Castiel ground out. He was already in over his head, he didn't need Dean making this about anything other than sex. He pulled the handcuffs tighter around Dean’s neck and pulled back only to slam his hips forward, dragging a choked moan out of Dean’s compressed throat. Castiel set a punishing pace, thrusting hard and rough.

Dean lowered himself to brace his forearms against the concrete, pushing back against Castiel’s thrusts. His moans and the slap of skin hitting skin echoed through the empty warehouse. The concrete floor scraped Castiel’s knees through his jeans, but he didn't slow. It only took a few more thrusts before Dean was yelling his name along with a string of nonsense and choked profanities, his ass clenching around Castiel’s cock as his come painted the concrete.

Castiel fucked Dean through his orgasm, slamming into him over and over until his own orgasm hit him like a freight train. He tugged on the handcuffs, lifting Dean up so their torsos were once again flush, and bit down hard on the meat of Dean’s shoulder to muffle the sounds that threatened to pour out of him. Dean grasped the back of Castiel’s thighs and slid up and down the length of Castiel’s cock, his tight ass milking every drop of come out.

Castiel fell back onto his heels, whimpering as his over sensitive cock slipped free. Dean fell back with him—he didn't have much choice with the handcuffs wrapped around his throat—and leaned his head back against Castiel's shoulder. If Castiel didn't know any better he'd think Dean was actually seeking the physical contact. They sat in silence, breathing heavily, and Castiel wondered what the hell he was supposed to say after that.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Cas,” Dean said, sounding breathless, “we gotta have kinky sex like that more often.”

Castiel huffed a humorless laugh. “There is no ‘ _we_ ’ and we're not having any kind of sex ever again. I'm taking you in, Dean.”

“Then how come you're the one in cuffs?”

“In case you hadn't noticed, these cuffs are currently wrapped around your neck. Wouldn't take much to choke you out and switch them onto your wrists.”

“You do realize I can get out of this hold any time I want, right?”

“Yeah, right.” Castiel rolled his eyes, but tightened his grip on the metal links all the same.

Dean squirmed in his hold, pressing his back closer to Castiel's chest. Castiel stiffened, waiting for Dean to try and escape. Instead, Dean slid his hands up Castiel’s arms, across his shoulders, and into his hair, massaging Castiel’s skull. Castiel’s eyes slid shut and he bit his lip to keep from melting into the touch.

“I really missed you, Cas,” Dean whispered against Castiel’s cheek before pressing a kiss against the stubbled skin. “I think I'm gonna take you with me this time.”

“What makes you think I’d let you go free, let alone go with you?”

“What, besides the fact that you just fucked me senseless?”

“That was a mistake.”

“I don't think you really believe that,” Dean said. He twisted to kiss Castiel’s jaw, right over the tender spot where his fist had smashed earlier, and Castiel winced.

“You want to know what I believe, Winchester?” Castiel snarled, pulling his face as far away from Dean’s mouth as he could manage. “I believe that if I didn't have this chain wrapped around your throat right now you would have already tried to kill me. _Again_.”

Dean sighed and slumped against Castiel’s chest, reaching down and wiggling to pull his jeans back on. “I'm sorry about that, Cas. I—shit. You make me feel things, damn it. Make me want to experience things differently than I have before. I was scared. I knew you wouldn't come with me willingly once you found out about me, and I knew you wouldn't just let me go. I had to sever things completely, and in the life I've led, death is the only way to make a clean break. It's the ultimate severance.” Dean took a breath before continuing, speaking in a voice so low Castiel had to strain to hear it. “It’s the only way I knew how to keep on going without you.”

Castiel listened in silence, keeping his grip tight on the handcuffs. He didn't trust Dean. That would be stupid. But part of him wanted to believe him.

“I saw the way you looked at me when you realized who I was, that I had used you, that I killed people, and I—I just couldn't stand to see the hurt and disappointment in your eyes. I think I thought if I killed you, I'd kill the part of me that wanted to be good for you. The part that wanted you to look at me like I was worth something.”

“Dean—” Castiel hesitated. He didn't know what to say. None of this made up for the fact that Dean had tried to kill him, but it made a twisted sort of sense and deep down Castiel wanted to believe it. “I can't—” he took a deep breath, inhaling Dean’s scent with it and losing the words to continue with whatever he was going to say. “You drive me fucking crazy, you know that?”

“Right back at’cha, sweetheart,” Dean said with a lopsided grin that didn't quite reach the sadness in his eyes.

Dean squirmed, trying to twist around to face Castiel. Against his better judgement, Castiel let the handcuffs go slack and ended up with a lap full of Dean. He lost himself in green eyes for a moment, as Dean wrapped his arms and legs around Castiel, and then Dean was kissing him again. There was nothing rough or urgent in the way he kissed this time, pliant lips gliding against Castiel’s, teasing with just the tip of his tongue. Castiel let his eyes close and felt like he was falling. Dean was a black hole and Castiel was the unfortunate collection of matter that couldn't resist the pull of gravity.

Dean pulled back and rested their foreheads together. “Come with me, Cas.”

Castiel sighed and opened his eyes to watch Dean warily.

“Please?” Dean asked, and his green eyes were full of sincerity. “I'll be good for you. I'll become a righteous man for you if that’s what you want. Just come with me. Save me.”

Castiel searched Dean’s eyes for any hint of deception in their depths. He couldn't find it, but in that moment he realized it wouldn't have mattered even if he had. He was lost, fallen completely for Dean, and he'd follow him anywhere.

“Okay,” he whispered, then pulled Dean in for a soft kiss, “but we're going to need a body. I have to die again.”

Dean laughed, low and dark, and the sound rumbled through Castiel’s torso and straight to his dick. “That can be arranged, sweetheart.” He leaned in for a toe-curling kiss, and Castiel let gravity take him.


End file.
